


The One With the Very Thin Walls

by foosballbing (ogygianprincess)



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: M/M, Run On Sentences, they’re stylistic I promise, vague sexual descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 16:02:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14429157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ogygianprincess/pseuds/foosballbing
Summary: Five times Chandler hears Joey having sex through the wall, and one time he doesn’t have to.





	The One With the Very Thin Walls

 

Joey’s having sex.

Not, like, generally, even though he definitely gets more of it than Chandler. No, Joey’s having sex right now.

Chandler appreciates when Joey has the decency to start the shenanigans after he’s asleep or (most times) pretending to be. But the gesture means nothing when the bed’s rocking so hard Chandler’s convinced that even Rachel and Monica can feel the floor shaking.

It’s not that he isn’t proud of his best friend, because he is. Joey’s always had charm, and this time he’s used it to prove the unattainable redhead at the bar to be not quite so.

Yeah. So Chandler’s proud of him. And not at all jealous that he couldn’t score a chick tonight, and not one bit bitter that it’s not his own bed that sounds like it’s moments from breaking. And it’s not just the creaking, because that’s surely not enough punishment from whoever he pissed off in hell. No, the girl in Joey’s bed is moaning, loud and fake, like a porn star behind on rent. Which is arguably tolerable enough by itself until she throws Joey’s name in there and Chandler’s forced to picture whatever’s going on in there.

(So far he’s gathered that Joey’s on top and the chick has her legs thrown over his shoulders, but yeah, Chandler’s really not paying much attention at all.)

So he presses a pillow over his head and waits to relax until the violent rocking turns to gentle mumbles and faux giggles.

She doesn’t stay the night, which is a relief to Chandler’s sleeping schedule. But it doesn’t stop Joey from beaming all the way to the kitchen the next morning.

“Hey, buddy,” he says through a grin, and punches Chandler’s shoulder.

Chandler’s halfway through his cereal already. He doesn’t look up. “Gee, Joey, you’re in a good mood. You didn’t happen to bring that girl home, did you?”

And the grin falls into a soft smirk. “Yeah, she was so into me, you shoulda seen it.”

This time Chandler looks up, because his delivering a line without a look is like Joey’s putting a spoon back without licking it first. “No way. You guys had sex?”

“Ay, quit that,” Joey says, still glowing.

They finish their breakfast in a comfortable silence.

\---

The second unbearable time, Chandler doesn’t even know who the girl is. Doesn’t care. Just knows that tonight the pillow over his head isn’t enough to muffle the sound.

This one’s characterized by rhythmic bumping that only seems to speed up when Chandler’s about to drift off. Could it BE any more convenient?

He considers going out and turning on the TV, because he knows he won’t be able to get any sleep for a while. So far, Joey and his mystery woman have been going at it for—Chandler glances at the clock—almost half an hour. And they’re sure not showing signs of letting up soon.

From what Chandler can hear, Joey seems more, er, passionate than usual. Which means there’s probably gonna be a round two. Or round three. Or round four...

In the briefest flash of undiluted anger, Chandler throws his own covers off and marches himself over to the shared wall. He’s never interrupted Joey before, and yet he raises his fist, ready to become that-annoying-roommate-that-becomes-a-pissbaby-whenever-you-bring-someone-home and pound on the wall.

But he pauses. Not to listen, but he’d end up doing so anyway, because it’s not like he can’t hear everything that’s going on in there.

And it’s Joey, choking on a moan. The noise itself is soft, and Chandler’s never heard him sound so vulnerable. More like absolutely-fucking-wrecked, but he tries very hard not to think about it and steps away from the wall.

He’ll let Joey have his fun tonight. After all, who would Chandler be to cockblock his best friend?

\---

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Monica!” Chandler whisper-yells, jolting upward. He hadn’t remembered making the decision to come over, yet here he is. “I didn’t think you’d be awake.”

“And I wasn’t until I heard my door open and my couch squeak.” She stands in front of her room, hands on her hips. There’s a towel wrapped around her hair, and she’s in her pajamas. The moonlight streaming in through the window is making her look kinda-sorta-beautiful. “Chandler!”

“Right. Sorry for the late notice, I’m checking into the Monica hotel. Oh look, a vacancy!” He gestures to her couch, which he’s... already half-laying on. “Lucky me.”

Monica takes a seat on the arm of the couch. It’s much too close, and he can smell the soap she must’ve used in her shower. Her pitying glance almost feels worse than when she‘d been yelling at him. “Did you get into another fight with Joey?”

“What? No, nothing like that.” He averts his gaze. “Some chick, on the other hand, is having a pretty intense wrestling match with him in his bed.”

Monica closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Ew. Alright, stay as long as you’d like.” Her hand brushes Chandler’s arm on her way back to her room, and the goosebumps don’t go away until he finally gets to sleep.

Jesus Christ. He really does need to get some soon.

\---

It’s a guy. It’s a fucking—

Oh. My. God.

Ew, he turned into Janice for a second there.

But this is big stuff. Oh-My-God-worthy. Because Joey brought a guy home. To their apartment. And is having sex with him. In his bed.

Okay, so Chandler isn’t supposed to know.

Okay, so he maybe shouldn’t have stayed quiet when Joey called his name to see if he was still home. But in his defense, he was heading out anyway. It‘s Saturday night, and he knew what that meant for Joey.

So he was on his way out to Monica’s almost as soon as he heard Joey’s door shut. And then he heard this guy laugh, some awkward-but-aroused laugh, and this guy was not Joey, and Chandler knew because he could pick Joey’s awkward-but-aroused laugh out of a crowd if he had to.

He doesn’t remember crouching with his ear against Joey’s door, but here he is.

It’s because he’s shocked. Joey never said anything about being into guys, though Chandler can’t imagine why he would.

Inside, clothes are still on (most, at least, from what he can tell). But Chandler can hear grinding and grunting and moaning, and Joey making that absolutely-fucking-wrecked sound that makes Chandler feel unholy simply by association.

In a way, it kind of makes sense. Joey loves sex, and he loves trying new things.

Unless this isn’t a new thing, and Joey’s been bringing guys home every time Chandler steps out.

The idea makes him feel a little dizzy, so he goes back to listening.

He‘s trying to discern something about the other guy from what he hears, when suddenly they both go silent.

What’s going on?  
Is Joey sucking dick?

Chandler tries to imagine it, but he can’t. So he presses his face against the doorframe and tries to peer through the opening.

He realizes his stupidity when the door slams open, immediately ricocheting off his cheek.

“Ow, fuck!” He lands gracefully on his ass, staring up at Joey, who looks equally as shaken.

“Chandler?”

“Joey!” He can’t even pretend to find an excuse for himself, so he turns it around. “What are you doing?”

“I was getting a—“ Joey’s eyes shift up, then back down to Chandler. “Wait, what were you doin’? I thought you were out!”

“I was out!” His mind is absolutely reeling, and the pain from where the door hit him isn’t helping. “I came back to... check on you.” Oh god, even he could hear how stupid that sounded. He’s an idiot. He’s an idiot, and he’s never getting out of here alive.

“You’re bleeding.”

Chandler puts his hand to his head. It comes back dark. “Well, this night is just getting better and better.” He scrambles to his feet. “I’m gonna go—“

“Yeah,” says Joey, who seems too numbed by the situation to say anything else.

Chandler feels like the most garbage friend on the planet. He can’t even look at himself when he gets to the bathroom.

He figures it’ll be fine. He can stay at Monica’s tonight and buy Joey, like, a shit ton of food tomorrow or whatever it’ll take to get his forgiveness. But even a near-foolproof plan like that doesn’t make him want to light himself on fire any less, because maybe Joey never wants to see Chandler ever again.

This point is disproven almost immediately when Joey joins him in the bathroom with a soaked washcloth.

“Oh, no, I’ve got it. I can go stay at Monica’s, go back to your—“

“He left.” Joey stares at Chandler, unblinking, casual. Like how one would look at a friend who hasn’t just exposed him for hooking up with a guy.

Chandler feels his heart drop twenty stories into the ground. “Joe, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I told him to.” Joey lifts the washcloth a little. “How’s your head?”

It’s throbbing, but Chandler can’t tell whether that’s from the pain or the nerves. “It’s been better.”

“C’mere.” And then Joey’s wiping the blood from Chandler’s face. His movements are quick, but it feels like it’s taking forever. Not to mention it’s strangely intimate, with Joey so close like this, and Chandler really can’t look anywhere but right at him.

Joey’s pupils are still blown. They’re squinted in focus on his task, but Chandler can tell. And he’s still a little sweaty, because his shirt is clinging to his body. His hair looks like someone else ran their hands through it.

Ran HIS hands through it.

Chandler decides to close his eyes until it’s over. And after a few moments, it is.

“Looks alright.” Joey takes the cloth away and claps his other hand onto Chandler’s shoulder. “You good there, buddy?”

And Chandler’s a little frozen, because he’s just realized three things.

1\. His shoulder is covered in goosebumps.  
2\. These goosebumps are very similar to the ones he received from Monica almost a week ago.  
3\. He’s in trouble.

“Oh, boy. Chandler? Quit tunin’ out. Do we need to talk about this? Because I was kinda hopin’ we’d just forget it and things would go back to normal.”

“Yeah!” Chandler says, a bit too enthusiastically. “I mean, that’s totally fine.”

“And then I can forget about you watching through the closed door.” Fuck. Is Joey bitter? He sounds bitter.

So Chandler’s not completely in the clear. And he doesn’t have an excuse ready for this, either, because he doesn’t know why he was watching. But his goosebumps are starting to give him a clue. And he’s kind of okay with it.

And Joey’s still awfully close, and Chandler’s backed up against the sink, and neither of them are going anywhere. It’s dark in there, but the light from the hallway is making Joey look kinda-sorta-beautiful, and one moment Chandler’s thinking about how Joey looks like he’s about to kiss him, and the next moment he is and then Chandler has his hands in Joey’s hair and Joey has his hands on Chandler’s hips and the bathroom gets real blurry but it doesn’t matter once Chandler closes his eyes. And then Joey pushes forward so Chandler is sandwiched between him and the sink, and it’s like that spot was made for him.

Chandler prays for the kiss not to end. Because once it ends, they’ll talk through it. Decide it didn’t happen. He’ll go to bed alone and spend the rest of his life wondering.

But Joey keeps going. He holds Chandler’s hips a little tighter when he deepens the kiss. And he sticks a knee between Chandler’s legs when they gently separate.

And they’re grinding. Rutting like horny teenagers, and Chandler’s relieved that Joey seems to be as hard as he is. And then Joey moans, but he chokes on it a little, so it’s more of a drawn-out gasp.

It’s like some suave sex spirit possesses him when he urges “Yeah, that’s it, Joey,” because he’s never said anything like it in bed. But he knows Joey, and it felt kinda right.

It is kinda right, because Joey grabs the back of Chandler’s neck and grinds harder.

And when Joey takes Chandler to the bed and takes him apart, piece by piece?

That feels kinda right too.


End file.
